


The Hand You Want to Hold is a Weapon

by ralsbecket



Series: Spooky Stuckony Bingo [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Cemetery, Depressed Steve Rogers, Hands, M/M, Reminiscing, Song: Graveyard (Halsey), Steve Rogers Lacks Self-Preservation Instincts, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27261577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralsbecket/pseuds/ralsbecket
Summary: Spooky Stuckony Bingo - I2: Cemetery-The hands that left Steve beaten and bleeding used to be sweet on him, forgiving, and even as he was crashing into the Potomac, all he could think wasI deserve this somehow.The soldier had looked at him like he was nobody. Like a stranger. Like they hadn’t grown up, and fallen in love, and gone to war at each other’s side.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Spooky Stuckony Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974859
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13
Collections: Stuckony server spooky bingo





	The Hand You Want to Hold is a Weapon

**Author's Note:**

> “You can think again  
> When the hand you want to hold  
> Is a weapon and  
> You're nothin' but skin”  
> \- Halsey, _Graveyard_
> 
> A/N: Another fill for the Stuckony server's Spooky bingo! (Also I just realized that this is my _very first_ Stucky fic!!! /cheers)
> 
> [Check out my linktree for tumblr, discord, and other socials](https://linktr.ee/ralsbecket) so you can yell at me lol

The world knew Captain America to be the man with the plan. Ironically enough, Steve Rogers was always the man who swung first and usually hoped for the best. Bucky used to tease him about being reckless and stupid, never one for having a habit of self-preservation even when he was just a skinny kid from Brooklyn.

When Steve had fought the Winter Soldier in close combat, the only thing running through his mind was, _Howard told me HYDRA would never come at me with a knife. He must be rolling in his grave._ When Steve managed to swipe the mask off the guy’s face and _recognized_ it, he just – froze.

The soldier – Bucky, _his_ _Bucky_ , he was sure of it – had looked at him like he was nobody. Like a stranger. Like they hadn’t grown up, and fallen in love, and gone to war at each other’s side.

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

At some point, there was a gun aimed at his head and Steve still didn’t move away, because God, _it was Bucky_.

_Hands, long and slender and pressing fingerprints into Steve’s skin, with Bucky’s mouth swallowing every sound he’d make so his Ma wouldn’t hear. Hands, soft and warm and twisting into his hair as they fucked slow in the private barracks, hours after Azzano and finding each other again._

_The same hands that had reached out to him on the side of the speeding train right before he slipped right through his fingers._

If the attack on the expressway in DC had told him anything, it was that old habits die hard. Namely, Steve’s habit of putting Bucky before himself. Even days later, as the Helicarrier burned hot around him and Bucky’s fists connected hard with his face, Steve kept hoping he would understand: _It’s not your fault. It’s okay, I love you._

Steve half-expected another punch to land before Bucky looked at him like he was… conflicted. Maybe there was a glimmer of recognition somewhere in his eyes, but there was definitely pain behind it all.

“I’m with you to the end of the line.”

The hands that left Steve beaten and bleeding used to be sweet on him, forgiving, and even as he was crashing into the Potomac, all he could think was, _I deserve this somehow_.

_Hands, tender and affectionate and stroking Steve’s like he had done the most by hanging the moon in the sky. Hands, subtle and secretive and tilting his chin up so Bucky could kiss him until they couldn’t breathe anymore, right before he deployed out for the front lines._

_The same hands that had grabbed him around the throat and thrown him to the ground before leaving the shape of a fist within the asphalt._

Sam was with him at the cemetery when they’d said their farewells to Fury. Natasha had given him Bucky’s files and left a warning about pulling too hard on the thread, lest he not like what he found. Frankly it couldn’t have been worse than looking into the mirror and hating the person that he saw.

After months on end with little to no progress, following Bucky across borders and coming up empty, Sam had admitted he thought Steve was wasting his time. He was a ghost that didn’t want to be found, but Steve knew it in his bones just like the first time he’d lost his love: _I would follow all the way to the graveyard._

It was in Romania where Steve finally caught up with him. At first he thought it was a slip-up, that he’d started to let his guard down, but it dawned on Steve after chasing Bucky through a quaint, little town that he wouldn’t have been found unless he _let_ Steve find him.

He’d been right on Bucky’s heels before the brunet ducked around a corner and disappeared into a park – that had headstones and flower arrangements littering the ground in between some of the standing mausoleums. Steve walked through the gates lithely, observing the eerie quiet and unease seeping into his bones.

The cool blade of a knife was poking at the back of his neck before he could take another step. Bucky questioned, “Why do you keep following me?”

“I –” An involuntary chill ran down Steve’s spine as warm breath hit his ear. “Bucky,” he breathed out, almost pleading, barely a whisper.

“Stop calling me that,” he hissed through gritted teeth, pressing the edge of the knife just a bit harder. A beat, before: “You’re a fucking idiot. The amount of times I nearly killed you…”

Steve couldn’t help himself. He licked his lips nervously, prodding, “Why didn’t you?”

“Why do you always give up so easily?” Bucky shot back, ignoring the inquiry.

His mouth opened to reply, but it was like the sound had died in his throat. What was he going to say? _Because I wish sometimes I’d never woken up from the ice. Because I wish sometimes I’d died with you. Because I wish sometimes I didn’t have to face seeing you like this. Because –_

“Because… I loved you. _Still_ love you.”

Silence. Bucky made no sound, no movements. The barely-there winds rustled the trees around them somewhat, and the cemetery seemed colder with it. Steve blinked back the tears that started to form.

He continued, voice trembling, “Because it kills me to have you so close but not even with me. Not really. Not the way it counts. I’d rather be dead.”

“Why?”

The knife was gone now. Steve felt more vulnerable and exposed without it biting into his skin than he did with it. Maybe he just missed Bucky’s touch, no matter if it was harsh. Maybe he just missed Bucky.

He wasn’t sure why his mouth kept running, with admissions he didn’t realize he had been holding back: “Dead would be better than you not knowing who I am, or what we were, just breaking me so fucking easy.”

Bucky made a soft noise from behind, somewhere between a hum and a scoff. “I’d only break you if you deserve to be broken.”

“But I do.” Steve frowned, feeling his heart ache at the sentiment. God, he just wanted to turn around and fall to his knees in front of Bucky, to crawl on broken glass and beg for forgiveness if he had to. “I fucking deserve it. I never went back for you, when you fell, and I am so –”

No one was behind him, when he turned his head to steal a glance at Bucky. Steve was met with a sudden stillness and the melancholy feeling that seemed to reverberate from the cemetery grounds.

_Hands, strong and thoughtful and holding Steve’s wrists above his head as Bucky sucked deep red bruises onto his skin. Hands, nimble and considerate and promising Steve forever with an inconspicuous band around his ring finger._

_The same hands that had curled around a gun which he aimed with deadly precision and shot Steve in the back when he should have aimed for the heart._


End file.
